Chapter 15 - Remember the Barn
Cade did not sleep.
Marshal Beck wanted statements before anyone moved.
Cade gave his.
Every ugly part.
Fort Grant.
Taza.
The mercy shot.
The medallion he failed to deliver.
The saloon.
Vale.
Voss.
Colter.
When finished, Beck closed his notebook.
“You understand I may still have to arrest you for Taza’s death.”
“Yes.”
Nalin sat across the blacksmith shop.
Her expression revealed nothing.
Beck looked at her.
“Will you make a complaint?”
Nalin replied:
“I will make a statement.”
Not the same.
Good.
Beck took hers separately.
Cade waited outside.
Father Ruiz slept under a doctor’s care.
Elias Ward also gave testimony.
Gabe refused until Beck informed him murder charges for Vale and possible charges relating to the ranch fire were already supported by multiple witnesses.
Then Gabe began negotiating.
Of course.
He blamed Harlan.
Pike.
Creed.
Vale.
Eventually himself, but only where unavoidable.
Information accumulated.
By dawn, Dry Creek no longer belonged fully to Creed.
Truth had escaped.
That did not mean they had won.
General Voss still commanded soldiers.
Creed still had gunmen.
Colter remained at Fort Grant.
And the second ledger remained hidden.
Cade had told Beck only that evidence existed.
Not where.
He did not fully trust the marshal yet.
Nalin approved.
“Progress,” she said.
“You’re teaching me.”
“I charge.”
“With what money?”
“Your reward.”
Cade smiled.
Then grew serious.
“Colter said remember the barn.”
Nalin nodded.
“You accused him before understanding.”
“Yes.”
“So do not assume betrayal now.”
“Yes.”
“What alternative?”
Cade thought.
“If Colter told Voss I have the ledger, he directs attention away from you.”
Nalin understood.
“He knows I carry the manifests.”
“He may.”
“And the real ledger?”
Cade had lied about the ledger under his poncho after Eagle Tooth.
Nalin knew.
Colter believed Cade had it.
But during their escape, Cade had slipped the original into Father Ruiz’s saddlebag.
The priest had unknowingly carried it.
Now it was hidden beneath the blacksmith floor.
Colter could not hand Voss what he did not possess.
“He’s buying time.”
“For us.”
“Maybe.”
Nalin looked at him.
“You want to believe him.”
“Yes.”
“Dangerous.”
“So is wanting not to.”
That earned a nod.
Marshal Beck approached.
“Army inspector replied.”
“Who?”
“Colonel James Harrow. Coming from Tucson with twelve men.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
Too late if Voss moved evidence or killed Colter.
Beck continued.
“I cannot order a general to stand down.”
“Can Harrow?”
“He can investigate.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
Cade expected it.
Nalin said, “Then we go to Fort Grant before Voss learns an inspector is coming.”
Beck stared.
“That is an extraordinarily bad idea.”
Cade smiled.
“She has those.”
Nalin ignored him.
“Voss believes Cade holds the ledger. He expects Cade.”
“Yes.”
“He expects him to enter with guns.”
Cade understood.
“Predictable.”
Nalin nodded.
“So you do not.”
Beck frowned.
“You intend to walk into Fort Grant unarmed?”
“No.”
Nalin looked toward Gabe, handcuffed under guard.
“We send someone Voss already trusts.”
Gabe stared from across the yard.
“No.”
Nalin smiled.
“You have not heard the offer.”
“I don’t care.”
Marshal Beck looked interested.
“You’re facing murder.”
Gabe’s face changed.
Beck continued.
“Cooperation matters.”
Within an hour they had a plan.
Gabe would ride to Fort Grant claiming he escaped custody.
He would tell Voss Cade intended to approach through the north wash after dark.
Voss would shift men.
Cade, Nalin, Beck, and three deputies would enter from the old freight road on the south.
Not to attack.
To retrieve Colter if possible and document Voss’s conduct.
Cade hated the plan.
Good sign.
Before leaving, Nalin visited Harlan Mercer.
He had been captured outside town that morning after his horse went lame.
His forearm was swollen from Nalin’s blow in the saloon.
He stared at her.
“You broke it.”
“You pointed a gun.”
“You hit Pike.”
“You poured whiskey over me.”
Harlan looked away.
Nalin asked:
“Did you throw the lamp at my uncle’s ranch?”
Silence.
“Gabe says you did.”
Harlan’s jaw tightened.
“He lies.”
“Then tell me.”
“I threw it.”
Her breathing changed.
“Why?”
“Old man hit me.”
“With a shovel.”
“Yes.”
“So you burned him.”
“I thought he’d get out.”
“Gabe locked the door.”
Harlan looked toward Gabe across the yard.
“He wasn’t supposed to.”
Truth.
Messy.
Shared.
Nalin’s revenge no longer had one clean target.
That was harder than anger.
She stepped away.
Harlan said:
“I’m sorry.”
She stopped.
Did not turn.
“That helps you more than me.”
Then she left.
At sunset, Gabe rode south toward Fort Grant.
Beck removed his handcuffs but kept his right hand bandaged.
One deputy followed at distance.
Cade watched until Gabe disappeared.
Nalin checked Vale’s revolver.
Cade now carried one borrowed Colt.
His own pair remained somewhere in Creed’s possession after the saloon.
He missed their balance.
Nalin noticed.
“Sentimental?”
“Good guns.”
“Men say that about guns and horses because neither can argue.”
“Your horse argues.”
“That is because she has sense.”
They mounted.
Before leaving, Martha Pell approached Cade.
She handed him something wrapped in cloth.
He opened it.
One of his worn Colts.
Cade stared.
“Where?”
“My husband hid it before Creed burned the telegraph office.”
The grip was scratched.
Cylinder dirty.
But intact.
Cade checked it.
Loaded.
Martha said:
“He thought you might come back.”
Cade met her eyes.
“Thank you.”
She looked toward Vale’s body, finally lowered for burial.
“Come back with fewer dead people.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try better.”
Nalin smiled.
They rode south.
Night settled.
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Fort Grant waited.
And somewhere inside it, Colter Thorn was betting his life that Cade would finally learn not to mistake appearances for truth.
